Author: Alma Heart
Character/Pairing: Faramir, Ithilien Rangers
Warnings: Implied violence
Disclaimer: All of Middle Earth is from the hand of Tolkien. I own nothing. I make no profit from the drabbles.
Happy belated New Year, everybody!
After the arrow, he had only fitful snatches of awareness. Hissing shrieks tearing the night. Pain. Hands on him. It hurt, and he struggled with all his remaining strength.
“Captain, it’s me!”
Fever-shivers dragged him back. He slumped against someone, cold air pressing against biting pain in his back.
“Shhh.” Anborn‘s whisper shuddered.
Heavy footsteps below. Orcs.
He stifled a whimper, tasting blood. No. Not for him would Anborn die. Pain buried his head against Anborn’s shoulder, left him trembling. But he made no sound.
Between breaths, the black barb dragged him back into icy darkness.
He woke from oblivion to blindness. Muted voices hummed in the dark, a sharp ache in his shoulder made him gasp. Disoriented, he struggled to rise. Where was Anborn!?
“Faramir?” Hands held him down carefully. “Easy, lad.” Damrod appeared in the shadows. Faramir stilled, startled.
Damrod smiled. “You‘re safe. Back home.” Seeing Faramir hesitate, the ranger added, “As is Anborn.” A calloused hand gently brushed his brow. “Don‘t talk, Sir. Just sleep.”
He would have argued. But darkness was warm here in the caves‘ reassuring depths. As he slipped under, Damrod’s voice filled the soft shadows with a murmured song.